


Saturn Return

by velvetglove



Category: Smallville
Genre: 29, Clex - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-09-25
Updated: 2003-09-25
Packaged: 2017-10-06 17:33:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/velvetglove/pseuds/velvetglove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Birthday story for Rhiannonhero. Originally posted to LiveJournal on 09/25/2003, when the idea of Clark/Lex was plausible.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Saturn Return

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rhiannonhero](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhiannonhero/gifts).



> Birthday story for Rhiannonhero. Originally posted to LiveJournal on 09/25/2003, when the idea of Clark/Lex was plausible.

> ###### Individuals who have chosen in their twenties a life structure which is not very suited to their character, or who have simply changed a great deal, will make breaks. The old ways will feel confining, limiting, restrictive. Old patterns of behaviour seem formalized and lifeless. In such cases, the people involved may end relationships, quit or be fired from jobs, move, or otherwise alter the basic structure of their lives.
> 
> Sometimes they break out before they know what they are going toward. They simply know that they cannot continue to work with the current design. After (or while) making their breaks, these people will actively seek a firm commitment. They will look for a life tasks which will provide them with a sense of achievement, mastery and competence. They will seek out responsibilities that will help them to feel they are making a real contribution and gaining expertise.  
> 
>
>> \--astrologer Martha Pottenger

A few weeks before his 29th birthday, Lex found himself questioning his all of his choices. Sitting in his office, taking a break between answering e-mails, he drank coffee and drew Kryptonian symbols on the pad by the phone. As he so frequently did these days, he found himself idly questioning his recent decisions, both important and mundane. Perhaps he should have gotten the Porsche in red instead, or maybe British racing green; he had so many silver cars already. Was the lilac shirt really the best choice for his official LexCorp portrait? Was it fair that Clark always chose the movie they'd see? At first, he'd let Clark pick because he wanted to be nice, but now it seemed that Clark just assumed Lex wanted him to choose every time and now, years later, he couldn't even remember the last time he'd decided which movie they'd watch.

He picked up the phone and dialed.

"Hello?" Clark's voice was low, almost a whisper.

"Clark. I want you to know, we're watching _The Usual Suspects_ tonight."

"Um, okay?"

"Good. That's settled." He felt so much better already. "Clark, why are you whispering?"

"Because I'm in a journalism seminar? I got enough dirty looks for having my phone ring; I'm not going to talk _loud_."

"Well, okay. I love you."

"I love you, too. Lex, are you all right?"

"I'm fine. Oh, and we're also going to have parmesan cheese on the popcorn. I like it that way."

"Whatever. Fine. I like it that way, too. Lex, are you _sure_ you're feeling all right? I could come get you and take you home." Lex heard someone shush Clark.

"Who's telling you to be quiet? I'm fine. I'll see you later. And if that person shushes you again..."

"Goodbye, Lex," Clark said firmly. "Good_bye_."

~~~

Lex sat in the biggest of the three LexCorp conference rooms, listening to plant reports coming in via conference call. Boring, very dull. He had already received synopses of this information in written reports. He sat up straight so his VPs and Associate VPs and Managers wouldn't suspect that his thoughts were really elsewhere. He wondered where Clark was right then, what he was doing, how he looked (pensive, serious, beautiful, some combination of the above?). Lex looked at his notepad and saw a bunch of Kryptonian nonsense and wondered when he'd started thinking in a language he could barely understand.

He should be doing something else, something less boring. He should be doing something he'd chosen for himself, not a version of what his father had always intended for him to do. He tried to think of what that new thing might be.

He recognized that the meeting was over when everyone else got up and pushed in their chairs. This time, Lex saw that his notepad was covered with just one shape, over and over: the Kryptonian symbol for change.

~~~

Clark put _The Usual Suspects_ in the DVD player. He put parmesan cheese on the popcorn. He lounged bonelessly on the couch and pulled Lex in to lie between his legs. Halfway through the movie, he slid his hand beneath the waistband of Lex's sweatpants and fondled his cock. Lex squirmed, unaccountably annoyed.

"I'm watching the movie," he complained.

"You've seen this movie so many times, Lex," Clark wheedled. "You _know_ who Keyser Soze is. You know how it ends."

Lex put a restraining hand on Clark's wrist. "And I've fucked you so many times, Clark. I know how _that_ ends, too."

Clark's face crumpled and he pulled his hand out of Lex's pants. "Lex? What's going on? You've been in a weird mood all day."

"No, I haven't." Lex crossed his arms over his chest and pouted. He wasn't as good at it as Clark, though, which was another thing that he could put in the column headed 'Clark's Fault.'

"You have. You totally have." Clark used his superior pouting skills. "First that phone call, and then you've been grumpy since you got home--"

"_Grumpy_? I'm not a _dwarf_, Clark." Lex glared; he was good at glaring.

"Okay, then, you aren't _grumpy_, Lex. Jesus. You're a whiny bitch. Is that better?" Clark glared back. Unfortunately, he seemed to have gotten adept at the acid stares while Lex wasn't paying attention, and now his glares were superior to Lex's, as well. Clark kept talking. "I made the popcorn the way you like, I didn't say anything when you got a _third_ drink, and I'm sorry if I was all, like, _molesting_ you, but I just wanted to show you I love you. It seemed like you might _need_ that today. Sorry. God."

Lex looked at Clark, beautiful even angry, with his black brows angled sharply toward the straight slope of his nose, spots of bright color on his cheekbones, his lush lips pressed in a frown. Lex cursed himself; he was so stupid! What was wrong with him? Clark had wanted to touch his cock; he could have been fucking that pretty mouth. And then, instead of building up resentment via a stupid argument about nothing, he could have been watching Clark's face go slack with lust as he pushed his cock into Lex's ass. He could have been coming, probably twice, and he could have been watching Clark work through his own orgasm, might have enjoyed seeing Clark's whole body flush as it arched against his.

"I'm sorry," Lex said, trying to sound sorry. "Really." And he was, but now he just sounded sarcastic.

Clark wasn't receptive. "Whatever. I've got some reading to do anyway." He stood and dropped the remote on the couch. "Enjoy your movie. Maybe it'll end differently this time."

By the time Lex felt okay about going to bed, Clark was already pretending to be asleep. Lex put out a hand to touch Clark's back, and felt him recoil. "I'm sorry, Clark. I knew I'd fucked up as soon as I opened my mouth." He let his hand rest on Clark's hip, even though Clark was using some heightened--possibly alien--physical cues to make him feel as though his touch was especially unwanted.

He tried again. "I don't know what's wrong with me, Clark. I've been a jerk." There was an infinitesimal thawing of Clark's posture; only someone who loved him as much as Lex did would have been able to notice the difference. He slid his hand further around Clark's hip, splayed fingers brushing Clark's belly. Clark grabbed his wrist and hauled him in close. Flooded with relief, Lex curled around Clark's body, holding on tight.

Clark said, "I'm mad at you," into the pillows.

"S'okay," Lex said against the smooth wing of Clark's shoulder blade. "I deserve it." He pushed his cock against Clark's ass, not too aggressively, but definitely hinting.

Clark turned over onto his back and pulled Lex on top of him. "I want to fuck you still," he said, "but I might not be nice about it."

"Because you're mad," Lex explained for him. "That makes sense." He shifted against Clark to show him how well he understood the logic. Clark's hands closed over his ass, pulling them into alignment.

Twenty minutes later, Clark's hand between his shoulder blades held him down on the mattress, Clark's cock filled him, and Lex's thighs were shaking too hard to support his weight. Lex moaned, "I'm such a jerk," and Clark whimpered in appreciation and pulled almost all the way out of Lex's body before ramming back inside. When Lex reached for his own cock, Clark slapped his hands away. When Lex tried to push his hips into the mounded sheets, Clark held him still.

"I'm mad at you," Clark reminded him. "I only let nice people come."

"I'll be nice," Lex reassured him. "From now on, I'm always going to be nice."

"I don't believe you," Clark said hoarsely. He wrapped his arms around Lex's chest and pulled him up to sit straddling Clark's thighs. "Hands off," he admonished. He held Lex's hips hard enough to bruise and moved up into him with long, sinuous thrusts.

Clark's chest was hot against Lex's back. Lex let his head fall onto Clark's shoulder reaching overhead and back to drape his arms around Clark's neck. He could die from this; he kind of hoped he might. "Please," he whispered in Clark's ear. "Let me come, Clark."

"No." Clark changed his grip, changed the angle, and Lex felt his spine begin to twist in a hot spiral, drawing his balls up tight against his body. He cried out in frustration as Clark said, "I won't let you, not yet. I want you to be really sorry first." Then Clark, the selfish bastard, was thrusting wildly against his ass, coming with drawn-out moans, moving through Lex like a wave and whispering rough words in his ear. Hearing Clark come, feeling his body pulse, was almost enough, but Lex wasn't going to come this time, not yet, not without a touch. Lex reached for his aching cock but again Clark stopped him. "No, Lex. Not yet."

So fucking unfair. "Please," Lex said. "Please!" And in case Clark was missing it, he pointed out, "I'm begging you."

Clark slid out of Lex's body and put a heavy hand on his back, pushing him back down. "Hold still." He licked sloppy kisses down Lex's spine, into the cleft of his ass, over the hole, still wet with his semen. Lex tried to twist away but Clark held him down and kept licking, long sweeps from his balls to the small of his back.

"You're trying to kill me," Lex gasped accusingly. "Just let me come, Clark, please!" His cock was so hard that the head rubbed against his abdomen when Clark lifted him by the hips and licked him wide apart, but the friction was just a tease, never quite enough. With each throb of his heart, his cock thickened, the skin taut. "You win," Lex hissed. "Whatever it is you wanted to teach me, I've learned it, I swear!"

Clark flipped him over on his back, pinning his hips to the bed. "We need to be nice to each other, Lex." He bent and sucked a kiss into the hollow of Lex's hip, the slight stubble of his cheek offering a tantalizing frisson of friction along the shaft of Lex's cock.

"That means _you_, too," Lex said, with a hitch in his breath. "Not just me, you sadistic ass." He squirmed in Clark's grip, fisted his hands in Clark's hair, and tried to drag Clark's mouth to his cock.

"Not--" Clark started.

"Don't say it!" Lex snapped.

"--yet." Clark's laugh seemed more than a little cruel, but he made up for it by finally, tenderly, with excruciating thoroughness, lapping all around the head of Lex's cock, licking away wetness. Lex's nails dragged against Clark's scalp, urging him on, and Clark crooned in sympathy with Lex's moans. This time, when Lex begged, Clark parted his lips, looked up to meet Lex's eyes, and drew him in.

"_Fuck_, oh, fuck! Clark!" Lex's feet kicked out reflexively, sliding across the sheets. His fingers knotted in Clark's hair and he bucked up into the wet pressure of Clark's throat. He curled over Clark's head, knees drawn up, and nearly sobbed with relief, gulping air. Clark kept sucking but ran a soothing hand over Lex's torso, gentling him down.

"I don't even know if I can come now," Lex said, his teeth chattering with tension. "You've got me so keyed up…"

Clark let Lex's cock slide out of his mouth and said, "Oh, you're going to come. Believe me, you'll come." Lex shivered at the determination in those green eyes, dark with purpose. Clark lowered his head, licking and nuzzling, and Lex propped himself up on his elbows to watch. Clark sucked until his cheeks hollowed and pushed a finger into Lex's body. Still open and wet from the fuck, Lex clenched around the penetrating finger and whimpered, begging, until Clark pushed in a second. Clark crooked his fingers, slow stroke against Lex's prostate, and then did it again, and again. Lex could scarcely draw breath; he choked out a moan and came so hard it made him dizzy.

Clark sat back on his heels and grinned, pleased with himself. Clark's cock was hard again and Lex eyed it with hunger, feeling decadently whorish. "More, Clark," he said. "Keep fucking me."

"Greedy," Clark said, but not like it was a bad thing, and he didn't seem unwilling to do it. He stretched out behind Lex, pulled him close, and, with minor adjustments in the placement of various limbs and the application of more lube, pushed back inside Lex's body. Lex felt less hateful now, less desperate. Clark rocked against him, kissed his neck and shoulders, and whispered, "I'm not mad at you any more."

"You love me," Lex stated. He turned his head for a kiss on the mouth.

"I love you even when I'm mad at you," Clark replied. "But next time you decide to act like a jerk, could you at least make it be for a reason?" Clark's tone was light, and he was smiling, so Lex chose to interpret the question as rhetorical. Clark reached for Lex's cock, stroked it, and when Lex shifted a little, he murmured, "Is this okay? Too soon?"

Lex reassured him. "It's good." He reached back to grasp Clark's hip. "Do it harder, even." He wasn't going to come again, but Clark would, and Lex wanted to feel it. They moved together, easy and endless as water flowing, and Lex felt lulled and sleepy even as he moaned. There was a hipbone sharp against the muscles of his ass, Clark's breath sweet against the back of his neck, and a big hand spread low over his belly, holding him secure. As Clark got closer to orgasm, his touch was rougher, and he moved faster and deeper. He clutched at Lex's body, random and frantic, leaving bruises. Lex arched his back, gave Clark something to push against, and murmured encouragement as Clark lost every word of two languages but for one: a name.

~~~

Instead of falling asleep like a normal person, Clark always wanted to talk after sex. "Hey." Clark kissed Lex's temple. "Your birthday's coming up, you know."

"Mmm." Lex shifted closer to Clark. "So?"

"Have you thought about what you want to do? I've got some ideas, but if you already know what you want…"

"Oh, Clark." Lex turned lazily, wrapping his arms around Clark's neck and pulling him down against his chest. "I've got what I want."

"Seriously." Clark rubbed his face against Lex's chest. "We should do something special. I mean, you'll be twenty-nine. It's kind of a big one."

Lex thought about it, idly tracing patterns on Clark's back. He couldn't come up with anything except more of this. And maybe a new job.

"Hope," Clark said. "Love. Change...and candy?"

"What?"

"What you're doing on my back. Writing. Words."

Lex smiled in the dark. "I didn't realize I was doing it."

"It's cool that you've learned so much Kryptonian. I didn't know you'd been paying attention."

Lex kissed Clark's forehead and held him tighter. Dearest creature in the world, on any world.

"Neither did I."

"So that's what you want for your birthday?"

Lex pictured a homemade cake with black icing, an 'Over-the-Hill' banner draped from the Kent kitchen ceiling, and silly gag gifts wrapped in bright paper. Oh, yes. "Well, I definitely want the candy."

"I can do candy," Clark said with certainty. "I might even be able to help with the other stuff."

"Good. I'm counting on your help." He held Clark a little tighter. "I'll try to be nicer, Clark. Pay more attention."

"You can't help it." Clark's voice was muffled against Lex's skin. "Twenty-nine."

"I don't believe in that stuff." Lex was just short of scoffing.

Clark lifted his head, looked Lex in the eye. "Right. Because everyone knows that events elsewhere in the universe can't possibly have any effect on what happens _here_." He let his head drop heavily onto Lex's ribs.

Had he hurt Clark's feelings? "Sorry." He pressed another kiss to Clark's forehead. Clark _did_ have a point, even if it was only true for the two of them and not the thousands of New Age idiots with their natal charts and healing crystals who actually believed in that astrology crap. "Can't help it. You know, _twenty-nine_."

He knew he was forgiven when he felt Clark smile. And, unbidden, the Kryptonian symbol for "forgiveness" appeared in his thoughts. He drew it on Clark's shoulder and got another smile. Clark then traced something on Lex's chest, but he couldn't make it out.

"What--?"

"Sleep," Clark said. "Be _quiet_."

Lex stilled his noisy hands in Clark's hair and closed his eyes. Tomorrow he'd have someone in Research look into scientific support for these twenty-ninth birthday theories. And then--

"You're thinking," Clark said. "_Quiet_."

And because he'd promised Clark he'd be nicer (already amending it to 'nicer to _Clark_'), Lex was quiet, and the quiet made it easy to approach sleep.

One last defiant thought, though: He'd pick the movies from now on. Sometimes. Well, unless Clark _really_ wanted to watch something else.

Change has to start somewhere.


End file.
